


breaking dishes

by thunderylee



Category: Sexy Zone
Genre: Canon Universe, Established Relationship, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-07
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-16 02:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12333504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thunderylee/pseuds/thunderylee
Summary: These two can’t be trusted to do anything together.





	breaking dishes

**Author's Note:**

> reposted from agck.

Something wet hits the back of his head and Fuuma turns to find Kento smirking, aiming the water spray right at his face.

“The fuck,” Fuuma grumbles, abandoning the dishes he’s drying to pin Kento to the counter. “Are you trying to make a mess?”

That little bastard just laughs, leaning back enough to look at Fuuma. He’s a little flushed from the sudden manhandling, though Fuuma knows that’s not all it is. “Maybe you just look hot wet.”

His hands are still sudsy as he brings them up to thread through Fuuma’s curly hair, and Fuuma takes a deep breath as he tries to stay calm.

It doesn’t work. He can feel the growl bubble up in his throat, encouraged by Kento’s devious eyes because he _knows_. Fuuma watches him pick up the spray before tightening his hands on Kento’s hips, shoving him harder into the counter.

“Don’t do it,” he demands, his voice lower than usual.

Kento does. Fuuma squeezes his eyes shut just before the spray hits him, right in the face. Just one second, enough to send little streams down his cheeks, but then he feels Kento’s fingers on his skin, gently wiping the water away.

“Are you mad?” Kento whispers, rocking back just enough to be pointed. “Am I in trouble?”

“You are something else,” Fuuma hisses, pushing Kento into the counter once more with his own hips. Kento gasps from the rough friction, which Fuuma follows as he blatantly gropes Kento through his jeans. “You have five seconds to turn around or I’m gonna take you just like this.”

Kento spins around faster than he should be able to in his locked position, hopping up on the counter and wrapping his legs around Fuuma’s waist to pull them flush together. Fuuma’s already groaning before Kento claims his lips, rolling his body like it’s a particularly provocative dance move, but his control only lasts until Fuuma takes over, licking right into Kento’s mouth as he nearly rips open the fastenings of Kento’s jeans.

Kento’s moaning before Fuuma even touches him, finding him all the way hard and leaking and feeling a little proud that he can still cause this level of arousal just by being near. He takes care of their pants while Kento pulls off their shirts, working together just like any other time, until Kento’s skin is bare against his.

They learned a long time ago to keep lube stashed _everywhere_ , so all Fuuma has to do is reach into a drawer and he’s slicking his fingers, slipping them one by one into Kento’s body that’s more than welcoming. No matter how many times they do it, this part doesn’t get any easier, but Kento loves it, pushing back against them as much as he can from where he’s perched on the edge of the counter, right in front of the sink that’s still half full of dishes.

His noises taste as good as they sound, little needy mewls that make Fuuma even hotter, moving faster, wanting to be inside him now. Kento’s hands are all over his chest, clawing a little at the muscles as Fuuma fingers him harder, sharing some of the tension. He jerks when Fuuma finds his spot and whines shamelessly, reaching down to take Fuuma’s cock into his hand as Fuuma keeps prodding him right there.

“Fuuma,” Kento gasps, pulling out of their kiss to catch his breath, and Fuuma enjoys watching him fall apart like this so much. “Fuck me, please, fuck me now.”

Fuuma groans low in his throat as he pulls out his fingers and grabs Kento by the ass, letting Kento guide Fuuma’s cock inside him. “I don’t want to hear it when your tailbone hurts tomorrow.”

“Worth it,” Kento gets out before Fuuma pushes in. Kento’s head falls back, his beautiful voice moaning out into the empty kitchen, and Fuuma presses his face into Kento’s neck as he starts moving. Kento’s intimate melody fills his mind, fueling him to give more to hear more, and he lets out some noises of his own when Kento’s nails dig into his back.

It’s hard and fast and dirty, sweat getting in Fuuma’s eyes as he fucks Kento into the counter. He makes it another couple minutes before tearing his mouth away from Kento’s neck–shit that’s going to leave a mark, and then Kento will have to wear those awful scarves again–and kissing his way up Kento’s jaw to his ear.

“Get yourself off,” he orders, a fresh wave of arousal crashing over him when Kento immediately complies. “Kento, you feel so good.”

Kento just moans again, hand flying up and down on his cock as Fuuma pounds into him. He can tell that Kento’s going to come when his body locks up, breath catching and Fuuma will never get tired of feeling this around him, continuing to push through the constricting muscles until he can’t last any longer.

He shivers as he lets go, Kento’s strong arms around him to hold him upright despite being the one held up in the first place. Always the older one, always the one taking care of Fuuma no matter what. Fuuma’s barely processing coherent reality when those lips return to his, gradually bringing him back to life, letting Kento take the lead as he just kisses back and rides out the aftershocks.

“We should finish cleaning up,” Kento whispers, grinning against Fuuma’s lips. “The others will be back soon.”

Fuuma nods and tries his best to move, but they’ve barely made it back into their pants when their sharehouse roommates get home, finding Kento still sitting on the counter and both of them sweaty with sex hair.

“Can’t leave you two alone to do anything, can we?” Hokuto teases as he and Jesse unload the groceries, and Fuuma just rolls his eyes when Kento replies with the water spray.


End file.
